Everything Starts Where it Ends
by Seastone Chair
Summary: AU. "Alfred had gone so far. He had worked so hard to be able to be reborn into a new life; Arthur was proud and envious of him." USxUK Twoshot.


_**Everything starts where it ends – Lovedrug**_

_**Here we are again, love  
Here we go again  
By your side I can't pretend anymore  
Now everything starts where it ends.**_

* * *

Alfred smiled as he sang loudly to a cover by Hinder: _Born to Be Wild;_ the wind whipped through his blonde hair. The hood was down on their convertible car. One hand was riding the wind as a surfer would ride waves; the other hand was holding tightly onto the driver's free hand.

Green eyes quickly glanced over at the nineteen year old. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Arthur's lips as he drove down the 60 in their convertible Mustang. He squeezed the warm hand in his when he was forced to look back at the highway. They were on their way to a highschool to speak to the students of that school.

They were to share their story.

What had happened between the two men was more powerful than any other thing in the world. It had shaped and formed their lives into something incredible. Their love was something that had been formed from their meeting. Arthur had done the unthinkable and had saved a life of a hero. The hero of his life and of so many more lives.

Alfred had gone so far. He had a new life. He had worked so hard to be able to be reborn into a new and improved lifestyle. And Arthur was proud of him. It was by accident that Arthur had found Alfred, lying in his own waste, vomit, and other liquid substances.

* * *

Arthur had had a fucked up day at work. His boss, some female slut that had somehow made it up to power, had nearly gotten him fired for sexual harassment. When in reality _she _should be getting fired. He was walking down the street, hands deep in his pockets, kicking rocks as he headed towards the Shakespeare Pub to drown his day away.

He had made it halfway to his pub, walking past that always-creepy alley when he heard it. A soft giggling came from inside the alley. Arthur froze; the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Emerald green eyes looked into the darkness between two buildings.

A choked wail tore through the air this time. It wasn't a cry of pain, it was more like a cry of… of _pleasure_. Against all sense and logic, Arthur curiously took a few steps into the alley.

"Hello?" He called out, feeling stupid. Maybe it was just a cat or something in pain… A little sound of surprise came from right next to Arthur. The Briton nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around to find the source of the sound. A figure was curled up in a little ball on the ground, visibly trembling, staring sleepily at Arthur.

"Hey… are you alright?" Once again, Arthur felt stupid for asking such a thing. A human being was lying in an alley way, beside a gross blue dumpster, giggling like a maniac. The male on the ground respond to the question. Arthur took a couple steps close.

"Don't come near me!" A slightly annoying voice shouted out from the figure on the ground. Instead of listening, Arthur crouched to get a better look at the man. He whimpered and tried to shrink away, scooting back against the wall.

The first thing that got Arthur's attention as he got close to the boy was that it smelled _disgusting_. His small nose crinkled at the repulsive scent. The second thing he noticed was two needles. Two recently used needles. Wide green eyes looked at the man trying to become invisible. Arthur reached down and touched one of the needles.

"Oh… I don't have any more, man. Used all of it," The words were slightly slurred. They came out slow and the syllables were exaggerated.

"Used… all of what exactly?" Arthur's voice cracked. He was slightly scared of what he was about to discover.

"Dude… the coke? Heroin? Duh? Isn't that what you're her for?" Even though the man on the ground looked like he wanted to just shrivel up and disappear, his tone of voice was calm. That is, until he started to get suspicious. "Or are you the police? You're the police! Shit! Don't fucking touch me!"

Arthur pulled his hand back from the needle as if it suddenly burned his skin. This guy was a druggie… that should have been obvious to the Briton!

"Get the fuck away from me!" The man kept yelling and shouting for Arthur to leave. He kept accusing the Englishman of being the police, but the only thing on Arthur's mind was that this man needed saving.

Never before had Arthur had this feeling. He had never been one to volunteer at some charity or whatever the fuck goodie-two-shoes were supposed to do. But as he gazed down at this poor soul in front of him; he just knew.

Arthur reached out slowly and touched the man's cheek softly. "I want to help you."

The yelling stopped for a moment. Dull, tired eyes looked like they couldn't process what he just said. "Police?" Was all he said. Arthur shook his head. The man seemed to calm down for a moment taking a deep breath. He then, slowly, drifted off to sleep.

Arthur stared down, suddenly at a loss. What was he supposed to do? Carry this guy out of the alley? What the fuck was that smell anyways? Nervously, he bent down a little bit more to stare at the puddle around the now sleeping man.

Once it clicked, he recoiled back. Vomit, human w_aste_ was mixed with a tiny amount of blood from the injection. It seemed as though this person's body had rejected the poison injected into it, but this guy had kept at it until his body was forced to keep it in.

Arthur looked down at his clothes. It wasn't anything special he was wearing… so it wouldn't matter if he got it dirty, but… just… _ew_.

With a steady breath, the Englishman pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed a cab and managed to lug the unconscious man out of the alley. Thank god they were near a pub… he could just say the man had gotten hammered… and then pay the man extra money.

Which was exactly what Arthur did. The cab driver wasn't at all happy about having to drive a disgusting pig like the alley man was, but when Arthur offered to pay double everything was solved.

Once at home, Arthur carefully dragged the man into the bathroom where he threw him into the tub. Turning the water on warm, he showered off all the filth and slime. The boy still had his clothes on, but at least some of it was coming off.

Arthur used the showerhead at first to get the initial dirt off. It drained in black brown streams. Golden blonde hair began to shine. Oh… Arthur had thought his hair was brown…

Not knowing what to do after he got the first layer of grime off, Arthur stared at the sleeping man. The blonde's breathes were coming in short, ragged gasps. Making a nervous noise of fear and confusion, Arthur quickly left the bathroom to get a blanket.

He didn't want to undress the boy, but now his clothes were soaked (but clean) and he had to be shivering if he was left in the bathtub to sleep. Arthur nearly ran into the bathroom to wrap the boy in a cocoon of warmth. Heaving a nervous sigh of relief, the Briton sank to his knees and watched the teen sleep once again.

It was strange… Arthur had just housed a crazy drug addict that he had found in an alley… What if this guy was a psychopath and tried to kill him? But… he was just a boy… maybe late teens. What happened to him? Why had he chosen to resort to such life destroying acts?

What if he over dosed? Arthur reached over and felt the boy's forehead. No fever… well, he had just been showered off with icy cold water. It was surprising that he hadn't woken up. The sleeping blonde wasn't frothing at the mouth, so he probably wasn't OD'd.

"_Wake up, you're alive, I'm with you."_

Those were the words Arthur whispered to the sleeping man. Those were the words that bound Arthur forever as his words echoed through the dreamless slumber that had seized the man in the tub.

Arthur, himself, drifted off to sleep. It was an awkward sleep: his head was on his arms which were on the edge of the tub. His body was curled up near the side of it. He kept waking up at every little sound. Eyes full of worry as they glanced at the sleeping boy.

The last time, he was jerked almost violently out of his fitful sleep by a small whimpering sound. His head whipped up to look at the figure in the tub. Eyes were open, revealing the most beautiful sky blue eyes Arthur had ever seen.

He was trapped by those fearful blue eyes.

"Who are you?" The boy whispered.

"Arthur," The Englishman didn't want to push, but he wanted to know… "Who are you?"

"Alfred." The answer was almost inaudible and Arthur had to strain to listen. "Where am I?"

"Home."

* * *

_Write. __Tell. __Create. __Sing. __Imagine. __Share. __Own. __Believe. __Continue._

_Your Story._

_4.21.10 is To Write Love on Her Arm Day. Write LOVE on your arm if you support the agency. I fully support them with all of my heart. No, not because I was a cutter once or because I tried to commit suicide. I support them because a close friend of mine tried to. She was hospitalized for extreme suicidal thoughts; I visited her every day in the hospital and bought her the largest stuffed bear I could find! We watched Finding Nemo every day with her mom._

_Every time I think about this, it make me break down into tears. I thought I should write something in light of TWLOHA Day tomorrow. In reality, this story has different characters and is longer. But I wanted __to share it with all of my readers, so I changed it to Hetalia. Some of this is from my own experience, some is from the story on TWLOHA . com, and some is fiction._

_All places I mentioned are legit._


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